


Close to you

by sb_essebi



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: First Kiss, Huddling For Warmth, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out, Mention of sex, Partial Nudity, Pining, Touch Telepathy, Vulcan Mind Melds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:55:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27818617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sb_essebi/pseuds/sb_essebi
Summary: A sudden snowstorm during an away mission interferes with the Enterprise’s transporters and communications, leaving Jim and Spock stranded alone on an alien planet. A small cave their only shelter and huddling for warmth the only way to avoid hypothermia, they are forced to confront their feelings for one another.Written for the Kirk/Spock Secret Santa 2020.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 58
Kudos: 204
Collections: Kirk/Spock Secret Santa 2020





	Close to you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scatteredmoonlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scatteredmoonlight/gifts).



> Written for the Kirk/Spock Secret Santa 2020, for this prompt:
> 
> "They're on a mission, but it's all gone wrong. They lost communication with the Enterprise and can't beam out, so they have to try and survive for the night but it's super cold... huddling for warmth and first kisses! it all happens."

Jim threaded confidently through the nearly knee-high snow, a wide smile on his face.

The mission was only a simple survey of the local flora and how it adapted to the planet’s unpredictable weather. It had been completely unnecessary for Jim to beam down with Spock, Sulu and his botanists, but Jim could never resist the call of some fresh air. He didn’t regret it in the slightest: the air was crisp and clean, and every breath felt refreshing, uplifting.

They had beamed down in the middle of a sort of grassland, not a hill or a tree in sight for miles and miles but for the exception of a huge plateau perhaps five hundred meters to the east, a tall vertical cliff of dark grey rock sprouting suddenly in the middle of the plain. The twin suns shone bright in the sky, reflected a thousand times by the thick blanket of snow that covered everything around them. The intense heat from the suns warmed the air to a lovely, balmy temperature, and all of them, even Spock, had chosen the regular uniform over the ones for cold weather. Jim closed his eyes against the sunlight for a moment, enjoying the way the warmth felt on his skin.

“Found anything of interest, Mister Spock?” Jim asked as he crouched next to his First Officer, their shoulders brushing, careful not to let his ass touch the watery, rapidly melting snow.

“Indeed.” Spock glanced at him for a moment before returning his eyes to his tricorder. The enthusiasm in his eyes was, to Jim, plain to see. “I believe the data we have collected here will provide plenty of insight into the strategies the local flora employs to survive the constant alternation of sudden snowstorms and subsequent thawing.”

Jim had never seen Spock in a light such as that of this planet, so white and bright. He looked almost ethereal, otherworldly, like something out of a dream. Beautiful and perfect and unattainable. Jim sighed, feeling his chest full and tight with affection. He loved the man, and he sometimes felt privileged just to be able to watch him, watch the quiet delight Spock found in his work.

“It’s too bad about the weather,” Jim commented wistfully. “If it weren’t for the storms, I would have sent everyone down for a bit of shore leave… this place is a proper winter wonderland. How long until the next storm hits?” he asked, gently placing his hand on Spock’s shoulder.

“Approximately one hour, Captain.”

“Will you be done with your readings by then?”

Spock nodded.

“We should complete them in thirty minutes at maximum.”

“Good, good-“

The wind suddenly began to blow, a lash of cold across Jim’s face, ruffling his hair and making him rise reflexively and rub his arms to warm himself up. Spock too rose, eyes scrunched almost shut and hands tightly grabbing his upper arms, keeping them close to his torso, clearly uncomfortable.

Without even realizing it, Jim gravitated towards Spock and Spock towards him, as if they both instinctively wanted to shelter the other from the cold, and Jim’s right upper arm collided softly with Spock’s left. Neither of them startled, the contact so right and welcome to Jim it only felt natural. They listened to the wind howling for a maybe a minute before it slowly died down. When it did, the still air from before did not return. An icy breeze remained, wet with the snow particles it lifted, its sound a warning whisper in their ears.

“Make that twenty minutes, Mister Spock. If the storm hits a little sooner, I want us already off the planet.”

“Acknowledged.”

Again Jim touched his friend’s shoulder, his hand then sliding slowly, lingeringly down to Spock’s upper arm.

“Want to beam back up? Grab your winter gear before you finish up?”

There was a kind, appreciative smile in Spock’s eyes.

“That will not be necessary, Jim.”

Jim gave him a nod, reassured. He turned away from Spock, but before he could signal the change in schedule to the rest of the landing party, he spotted all six of them hurriedly making their way over.

“ _Captain!_ ” Sulu shouted, “ _Look up! Over there!_ ”

Following Sulu’s pointing finger, Jim saw that a gigantic storm cloud had formed were there were only harmless little white clouds before. Grey and black, flashing white with lightening, Jim could now hear it rumble threateningly in the distance. It was moving _fast_ , the shadow it cast over the plain visibly closing in on them.

“Spock?”

“At this speed, I calculate the storm will be on us in approximately 5.7 minutes.”

The wind picked up speed again, making the hem of Jim’s pants flap against his boots like a whip.

“How long until it starts affecting our instruments?”

“It may already be doing so.”

Jim flipped open his communicator, squinting against the wind.

“Kirk to Enterprise.” Interference crackled against his ear. “Come in, Enterprise.”

“-ott here.”

“Scotty, can you hear me?”

The rest of the landing party reached them, and Sulu stepped close to better listen in.

“On and off, sir. A mighty big storm’s spreading across your landmass.”

“We see it, Scotty. Beam us up!”

A short silence followed, spotted with occasional static.

“Hold on, I can’t get a lock on you. The storm is interfering with the instruments.”

Jim and Spock exchanged a worried look.

More silence, more frequent static.

“It’s no good, sir,” Scotty said eventually, “I’ve got it working now, but I’ll have to beam you up one at a time.”

“Do what you must, Scotty, just do it fast.”

One by one, Sulu’s botanists were beamed up while the wind got colder and harsher.

Spock started shivering slightly. Jim grabbed his upper arm in sympathy, comforting both of them.

Eventually, only Jim, Spock and Sulu remained.

Sulu was standing ready to beam up. They waited, but nothing happened.

“Scotty?”

“Just a minute, Captain!” came the reply.

It seemed as though it was going to work: the characteristic shimmering appeared around Sulu… but then it faded. And reappeared for just a moment. And faded again. It did not return.

“Scotty, what’s going on?”

“I ju- can’t -et a lock! Han- on, I’m boosting the—“

Finally, the shimmering reappeared. After a much longer wait than usual, Sulu finally disappeared.

“Spock, you’re next.” The Vulcan looked like he was about to protest, but Jim silenced him with just a gesture of his hand. “That’s an order, Commander.”

“Scotty, are you still there?” Static. “Mister Scott, come in.” More static. He readjusted the frequency on his communicator. “Kirk to Enterprise. Come in, Enterprise.” Silence. “Enterprise, come in.”

More silence. Thunder sounded again, too close for comfort. A single snowflake landed on Jim’s hand. He flipped his communicator closed.

“We have to find shelter.”

“Indeed,” Spock agreed, brows knitted, looking around, rubbing his own arms jerkily and shivering very visibly. Spock didn’t usually let on when he was uncomfortable, so Jim figured he must be freezing if he was letting this much show.

Looking around, Jim spotted a crevice in the cliff nearby. He pointed it out to Spock.

“I want to check that out. If it leads to a cave, it would shield us from the wind, and it will be warmer underground.” Spock nodded shakily. “You’re in front, Mister,” he ordered, grabbing Spock gently by the wrist to lead him.

Jim slid behind Spock, his front inches from Spock’s back, and didn’t let go of his wrist as they slowly walked the five hundred meters or so that separated them from the cliff face, the icy wind burning Jim’s hands and face.

Once they reached the crevice, Jim peered into it and saw that it continued. It was wide enough to squeeze through, so he gestured for Spock to wait while he did so. Though he had to crouch after a couple of steps, as the ceiling became lower, the gap widened enough for him to push through. It fed into a very small cave, only large enough for them to sit side by side, or perhaps lie on the floor if they curled up together. Jim shivered with longing at the thought, but sighed in relief at the feeling of finally being away from the cutting wind. With the hundreds of cubic meters of cliff above them, the rocky walls of the cave felt just barely warm to the touch, and they were blessedly dry.

“Yes,” he said out loud. “Yes, this will do nicely.”

He squeezed back into the crevice to help Spock in.

Spock was waiting right up against the entrance, trying to get some shelter from the storm while snowflakes landed on his hair and face one after the other, standing with his arms crossed and his hands tucked snugly under his armpits.

Feeling a sharp pang of concern for his friend’s health, Jim offered him his hand.

As Spock grabbed his wrist and stepped shakily towards him, the Vulcan tripped over something the snow had hidden, perhaps part of the cliff face, lost his balance and bumped heavily against the rock. With an ominous rumble, before Spock could do anything but look up in apprehension, a hefty amount of snow fell right on top of him from high above, effectively burying him up to his eartips as he fell into a sitting position.

Spock all but jumped out of the pile of snow with the horror and haste of a cat that had fallen into a filled bathtub. Jim wanted to laugh, but the laughter died in his throat when Spock gasped loudly in pain and Jim saw that the snow, half-melting and wet, had already soaked through Spock’s uniform, and what of it that clung to Spock’s body and clothes melted rapidly before Jim’s eyes in the face of Spock’s high body heat.

“Let’s get you inside,” Jim said quickly, watching a shudder wrack Spock from head to toe, leaving Spock shaking like a leaf.

“Ji-Jim, a-are you familiar with the E-Earth idiom, ‘cotton kills’?” Spock asked as Jim hurriedly ushered him through the crevice and into the cave.

“Yes… I see what you mean. Our uniforms are made of vegetable fibre, and like wet cotton it will sap the heat from your body if you keep it on.”

“Precisely.”

“Take it off, quickly,” Jim said, easing Spock to sit on the floor when his legs shook too much to keep him upright.

Spock was trembling violently, hands shaking, and he had trouble closing his fingers around the fabric of his uniform, so Jim quickly stepped in to help him out of the blue shirt. The undershirt underneath had been partially spared by the snow, but it had big wet spots all over the shoulders and front, onto which the biting cold would latch and tear at Spock’s skin, so that came off too.

Spock gave up on helping and stuck his hands under his armpits, shaking and breathing hard. Jim rid him of his boots, watching a fine stream of icy water leak out of them. Spock’s socks and pants were next, revealing long, thin but muscular legs that Jim could not help but ogle for just a moment even in such a dire situation. The uniform pants being a bit thicker than the shirts, Spock’s underwear was thankfully dry. Jim swallowed hard, silencing the disappointed part of him that had been very excited to be taking Spock’s clothes off.

Spock immediately curled up in a ball, and Jim was dismayed to notice that his shivering was diminishing: together with his loss of fine motor control and the less than completely alert look in his eyes, it seemed to point to him being already on his way to moderate hypothermia. Just how cold had Spock been, even before his clothes got wet? His breaths were a little less loud and shaky, and his skin was damp from the snow. It was somewhat hard for Jim to tell for sure in the dim white light that came from the crevice, but he didn’t like the ashen tone Spock’s skin seemed to be taking.

Without a second thought, Jim pulled his own shirt off and used it to dry the remaining moisture on Spock’s skin, starting from the back and shoulders when Spock folded himself into an even tighter ball, obviously in pain from the cold. Jim had seen Spock get both his legs broken and barely make a face: the fact that his pain was plain to see now made Jim’s stomach turn with terror.

“Do you think it’d be safe to use one of our phasers to heat the walls?” Jim asked, both because he truly wanted Spock’s opinion and because he wanted to keep him alert.

“Ne-negative. In su-such an en-en-enclosed space, I be-believe the heat would b-be too m-much for us to wi-withstand even if we w-w-were t-to set the phaser on the l-lowest setting.”

Jim rubbed Spock’s neck and shoulders decisively, trying to not only dry him but also give him some warmth.

“Yes, I figured as much. And if we tried to light a fire using the rest of my uniform as fuel I reckon we’d smoke ourselves out in minutes.”

Jim patted his shirt down Spock’s arms and legs, knowing that rubbing the limbs in these cases could send cold blood to vital organs and make matters worse, at least in Humans. Then, he turned Spock around and pried his arms away from his chest to dry it.

“Un-undoubtedly.”

Jim finished up the job by delicately wiping down Spock’s hair and face, feeling crushingly privileged to be touching him so intimately, even if it was only through the fabric of his shirt. He felt very warm inside when he realized how close their faces were, even while he too was constantly shivering from the cold. He licked his lips: whether in longing or to seek relief from the temperature, he wasn’t sure.

“Huddling for warmth it is, then.”

He tossed his shirt to the side.

Sitting in front of Spock with his legs spread open, he pulled Spock closer, making him cross his legs so that his knees rested on Jim’s upper thighs, his shins right against Jim’s stomach. Spock let himself be maneuvered without a single word of protest. Jim held him close, the feel of Spock’s hairy chest against his much smoother one doubling the goosebumps the cold was causing him, and began forcefully rubbing his friend’s back, his neck, his sides, a fast and graceless movement designed to create as much friction and heat as possible.

“Spock?” he asked after a minute. “How’s that? Are you warming up?” A stuttering shake of Spock’s head against Jim’s neck. Spock burrowed even closer. “Alright. Alright, hold on.”

He stood up, reluctantly letting go of Spock, and hurriedly took off his boots, then his socks and pants. He shivered, a small noise of shock escaping him at the feel of the cold hitting his legs. The dirt floor was slightly cool, but bearable, which Jim was deeply thankful for.

Spock was staring at him, pupils dilated, shivering and gasping with every breath. Jim knelt between his legs.

“You’re gonna put these on, alright?”

Without waiting for an answer, he rolled up one of his socks, gently grabbed one of Spock’s feet and started to slip on the sock.

“Ji-Jim-“

“Shhh, it’s an order, Commander.”

Spock nodded jerkily, his lack of protest proof of both how cold he was and of the logic of Jim’s decision.

Jim wasn’t exceedingly worried about his own safety. According to their data and the composition of water on the planet –which wasn’t good old fashioned H2O- the temperature wouldn’t get too close to zero during the storm. The storm was likely to last all night, which meant about six more hours in this case, if those they had observed from the ship were any indication. Everything considered, Jim was certain that, even naked, he would survive the night easily enough if they huddled for warmth, and suffer nothing more than a mild hypothermia.

Spock was another matter entirely. Vulcan did occasionally reach similar temperatures at night during winter, but the sand and rock emanated heat for hours after sundown, and Vulcans had long since evolved past the need to survive the cold without shelter, clothes and a fire. Jim had already been worried for Spock when they still had all their clothes, but now that Spock had gotten wet as well he was on the edge of panic. Water could easily kill in the cold.

After helping Spock into his pants and boots, Jim took a good look at his handiwork. His pants were quite loose around the waist and a little short for Spock’s thin and tall frame, but they certainly did the job.

“Do these hurt?” he asked, tapping the boots. Spock shook his head. “Come on, Spock, talk to me,” he said, wanting to use his speech to help determine how alert he was.

“N-no. T-they’re quite t-t-tight but-“ He quickly turned to the side and sneezed violently. “P-please, I need—“

“It’s alright, it’s alright, c’mere.”

He pulled Spock close again, same as before, and Spock went eagerly. Jim began rubbing his torso again, thankful himself for Spock’s warmth, and they shivered against each other for long minutes while Jim poured himself into the task of warming Spock up. The movement calmed him, gave him something to focus on. Being able to take an active role in helping Spock soothed him. Spock’s safety was one responsibility that never became crushing, that he always took on happily.

Spock soon felt a lot warmer to Jim’s touch, went back to a palpable and constant shivering. Jim relaxed fractionally, enough to begin appreciating the privilege of touching Spock all over, of learning the feel of those prominent shoulder blades and that thick chest hair, blushing when his thumb brushed a tightly hardened nipple. Jim swallowed, trying to hold his want at bay.

After a time, Spock shifted in his embrace and moved his hands from his armpits to wrap his arms around Jim, prompting him to tilt his head to glance at Spock questioningly. Spock didn’t look at him, only moved his face from the crook of Jim’s neck to rest his chin on his shoulder. His breaths were still quick and harsh, but he wasn’t struggling to breathe against the cold anymore.

“You require warmth a-also,” Spock said simply, beginning to rub Jim’s back.

The caress was firm enough, but extremely gentle, as if Spock couldn’t bring himself to be any rougher for some reason. Jim felt warmth instantaneously spread through him, but not on his skin: inside him. Accompanied by the relief at the knowledge that Spock was doing better came such a powerful wave of affection for this amazing, remarkable man it almost moved him to tears. He loved Spock. He loved him so. He’d known it for a long time, the feeling a steady fire burning in the back of his mind, but there were moments when the feeling crashed to the forefront with arresting, breath-taking intensity.

Sighing, trying to suppress a shudder caused by both the cold and the intense emotion, Jim relaxed in Spock’s arms, only then realizing how tense he had been. His shoulders and back hurt. He allowed himself to just hold Spock, feel the reassuring rising heat of his skin and his fast steadying heartbeat in his side.

He distantly noticed that his touch had slowed to a caress far too tender, far too similar to that of a lover, and yet he couldn’t do anything about it. Didn’t _want_ to do anything about it. Spock’s life being at risk put him in such a whirlwind of anxiety and downright terror, he felt he was almost _owed_ this, owed feeling him alive and warming in his arms. Perhaps here, alone, off the ship, in the dim light of the cave, he could allow himself this touch. _Spock_ could allow it. Here, mind foggy from the cold, perhaps Spock wouldn’t know that touch for what it was – Jim wanting him in a way so aching and desperate it would drive Spock away.

The light was dimming in the cave. The first sun was going down.

Trying to force himself to resume rubbing Spock’s skin, Jim ended up just holding him tighter.

 _‘I love you,’_ he thought. _‘God, I love you.’_

Spock went dead still and tense in his arms. Jim’s stomach sank with sudden realization.

_‘Touch telepath. He’s a **touch telepath**.’_

Jim could feel Spock’s heart beating wildly in his side before Spock pulled back, staring at Jim, eyes wide, eyebrows raised.

Jim had never felt such a haunting feeling of dread in his life. He felt like the floor had disappeared under him and he was falling, his guts bunched together and deformed by gravity.

“By focussing on controlling my physiological reactions to the cold, I neglected my mental shields.”

“Spock-“

“Jim. You must understand, from a young age I was warned extensively of the dangers of extreme emotion-“

“Please, Spock, I’ll keep my feelings to myself, I’ll never mention them again, I-“

“ _Jim_. I was not referring to yours.”

Jim blinked, struggling to process his friend’s words. Realization slowly hit, and he felt faint with it.

“You mean-“ his voice was shaky, unsteady.

“Jim… when I look at you, I feel an emotion the likes of which I have never known… a longing— a _desire_ , that I have never known before. And when I feel these things… I am terrified.” Jim could see the shame plain in Spock’s eyes, how hard it was for him to confront these feelings. It made Jim’s chest feel painfully tight in sympathy. “I cannot control— I feel as though— as though I am in the throes of the _plak tow_ again, as though my mind is not my own. I look at you and logic has no meaning. This emotion… it _will_ overwhelm me. If I give into it, I will lose sight of logic, of the only way a Vulcan can follow-“

“ _Spock_ ,” Jim interrupted him, gently grabbing his upper arms, forcing Spock to focus on him. “You told me once that your intelligence is all that makes your Human half and your Vulcan one live together. Can’t you see how _remarkable_ that is? I’ve seen you fight spores, alien influences, your own mating _imperative_ … you’re the strongest, bravest man I have ever known. You _can_ control these emotions. You _can_ allow yourself to feel _and_ not lose sight of logic. Your Human side and your Vulcan side _can_ live together. You have much more power than you give yourself credit for.” Jim shook his head lightly, trying to keep his own emotions in check. “I ask nothing of you, but that you don’t deny yourself the chance to feel this. Nothing about our relationship has to change, but _please_ , allow yourself to _feel_. It is the nature of… of _love_ , to be overwhelming… but that’s- that’s part of being Human. And half of you is Human, too.”

Spock did not reply, staring at Jim with wild eyes.

For the first time, Jim couldn’t bear the intensity of that gaze.

He let go of Spock, afraid he wouldn’t welcome any touch and figuring they could afford to go a few more moments with huddling for warmth. He looked down at the floor without really seeing it, engrossed as he was in his own thoughts.

He felt very much like a man awaiting a death sentence. Oh, of course he would respect any choice Spock would make, wait any number of years and even forever for him, but damn if it wouldn’t break his heart more than a simple lack of reciprocation would have. Knowing that Spock loved him but felt as though he couldn’t act on it felt like a hot brand deep in his gut, harrowing but impossible to reach, to stop.

After what must have been several minutes lost in that train of thought, for he could start to feel himself get colder by the second, something delicately brushed the side of his face.

Spock’s fingers.

He looked up, meeting Spock’s eyes. They were full of resolve, but Jim couldn’t say in what sense, and didn’t dare be hopeful. His breath caught in his throat when Spock moved closer, his palm coming to fully rest on Jim’s cheek.

Jim let his eyes fall shut, heart threatening to beat out of his chest. The feeling of that warm hand was both a blessing and a torture.

A flutter. That was all he felt. A flutter against his lips. Long enough to know it for the trembling of Spock’s lips on his, and no more.

He tried to commit it to memory, frantically. He’s changed his mind, he thought. This is all I will ever have.

Then, a true, fuller kiss, making him gasp. A long, gentle press, letting him feel the shape of Spock’s lips, feel what a perfect fit they were for his.

He gasped again when Spock pulled away. His heart was beating so fast he felt like his chest hurt.

He opened his eyes, then closed them again when those soft lips returned to his. Firm and insistent now, Spock’s hand moving to the back of his head to pull him closer hard, demandingly, hungrily.

Jim’s reaction was instantaneous. He groaned in relief as a lash of arousal whipped through him, wrapped his arms around Spock and kissed him back with just as much fervour, only managing to stop himself from deepening the kiss because of how deeply he respected Spock’s need to set the pace.

Never had a close-mouthed kiss been so inflaming to Jim, or felt so intimate. As he did nothing more than take Spock’s lips between his, release them and let Spock do the same to him, Jim felt as though they were locked in the most passionate lovemaking. Their hands certainly roamed their bodies with vigorous enough caresses and frantic enough hunger for that.

 _‘I love you, I love you, I love you,’_ he kept thinking.

Nothing else could possibly occupy Jim’s thoughts when Spock touched him as if he would have been tearing Jim’s clothes off if he hadn’t been down to his boxers already. He hoped Spock was shielding.

Jim pulled away just a fraction, breathless after what felt like a far too short eternity, having forgotten to even try to breathe from his nose, and watched Spock’s eyes, their pupils blown.

“How could I?” Spock asked, just as breathless, “I am barely keeping my thoughts from you. How could I, when you- when I-“

Spock shook his head lightly, then dove back in to kiss Jim’s parted, panting lips, slipping his tongue into Jim’s mouth. He was clumsy, inexperienced, just chasing his pleasure and hoping he could figure out how to give Jim some too along the way. Jim welcomed it with quiet wonder, burying one hand in that silky black hair and groaning as Spock kissed him hard.

Jim pushed aside his surprise to take control of the kiss. Oh, he was dying to show Spock how good he was. He wanted Spock to know just how many perks there were to his choice, wanted him to forget about ever regretting it.

_‘I **burn** for him. It could consume me… **and I would let it**.’_

It was impossible for Jim to express how honoured he felt to be allowed to see Spock’s thoughts, feel what he was feeling. A roaring blaze of passion spread through him as Spock’s mind edged quietly closer, a wild, gnawing hunger that desperately begged to be satisfied and scared Spock like nothing else.

Jim sent soothing thoughts across the link, coaxing all the affection and tenderness he felt to the centre of his mind, trying his best to set aside the waves of need that Spock’s touch summoned in him. He gentled his kiss, tried to slow it down a little, make it unhurried, like he wanted to ravish Spock, yes, but they had all the time in the world. And they did. They really did, and it made Jim smile into the kiss, an awkward but wonderful feeling.

Spock relaxed against him, one of his hands falling to Jim’s chest and finding his heart, then tentatively exploring Jim’s pectorals. Spock’s wonder at the feel of those round and full, voluminous muscles, so different from lean Vulcan ones, made Jim shiver and his chest puff out, made him feel the sting of a blush on his cheeks that had nothing to do with the cold.

Spock’s other hand found Jim’s, and Jim let him hold it for a moment until Spock started to trace its contours with two of his fingers, a gentle and purposeful caress. With the touch came more waves of Spock’s thoughts, of his emotions, tenderer now to match those Jim had projected, affection and devotion and admiration. There was a rhythm to the movements of Spock’s hands, a pattern, too complicated for Jim to follow, drunk as he was from the kiss, almost musical in a way. It made Jim all the more lost in the feeling of Spock’s touch.

He pulled Spock into his lap without thinking, feeling that every fibre of his being demanded it, and the touch was electric. They moaned in unison. Jim’s head spun at the unmistakable feel of a very prominent erection matching his own, and he felt a similar awe in Spock’s mind.

Jim kissed him with abandon, revelling in the little sounds Spock made, in how he shivered in response to Jim’s hand tracing his spine.

Spock rocked down against him, mind reeling. Jim could feel just how aroused he was, how hard and wet, how maddeningly pleasurable the friction felt. Jim enthusiastically let his hand cup a perfect asscheek, grinding up into Spock and pulling him closer.

Spock gasped, tearing himself away from the kiss. Jim could feel him struggle to breathe, to control himself.

“Jim… given the cold, it- it would be unwise to engage in activities that will likely result in copious amounts of sweat.”

Suddenly becoming aware of a world beyond the two of them again, Jim pulled back a little and reluctantly moved his hand from Spock’s ass to his side. Spock stilled the movement of his hand on Jim’s, leaving them palm to palm in the _ta’al_.

Jim forced himself to breathe, letting his forehead sink against Spock’s shoulder.

“Logical as ever, Mister Spock,” he said a little bitterly, knowing Spock was painfully right but struggling to stop the disappointment from stinging nonetheless.

Spock pulled him into a gentle, restrained embrace. The ardour from moments before was still there, but Spock was keeping it at bay, burning steadily at the back of his mind. It filled Jim with pride.

“I desire you also. It is… regrettable, that we must wait.”

Jim returned the embrace and resumed rubbing Spock’s back and neck to warm him, this time fully letting himself revel in the feel of that warm skin and the short hairs at the back of Spock’s neck.

“It’s more than that. When your clothes got wet, I knew you were in serious danger—“ He shook his head, banishing the thought. “And I’ve loved you for so long, knowing you feel the same is so… _wonderful_ , that I need… I need to be close to you.”

Spock pulled back to look Jim in the eyes.

“There is another way.”

Realization quickly dawned on Jim.

“A mind meld?”

Spock nodded.

“Yes, but unlike any we have shared in the past. What I am thinking of is a complete entwining of our minds.” He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “It is something that is only shared between… bondmates.”

Jim brought a hand to his own heart, swallowing, feeling faint at the notion.

“You would take me as your bondmate?” he whispered.

Spock dipped his head, chin against his own chest, avoiding Jim’s eyes just for a moment.

“I would. I have wished it dearly for a long time. I must confess, the fear of rejection was much of what kept me from making my feelings known to you… my other fears are just as great, but I am doubtful they will ever fade… and I am unwilling to wait any longer.”

Jim was breathing fast, heart wild in his ribcage.

“Are you sure about this? We don’t need to move this fast if you’re not ready.”

“I am certain. Jim, you must understand: lifelong, complete commitment is the Vulcan way. The only way I wish.” Jim gasped, elated at just the idea of that. “Had I not been certain, I would not have dared to kiss you. I knew that if I had done so and then changed my mind, I would have caused you great pain. The thought of harming you so is unbearable to me.”

Those words made Jim almost melt for how much affection warmed every corner of him.

“ _I love you_.”

He kissed Spock softly, chastely. Spock took his hands in his.

“ _Taluhk nash-veh k’dular_ , Jim.”

“Oh, _Spock_ …”

Jim closed his eyes, as if that would help him feel less overcome with emotion. His throat was dry.

Spock delicately nosed Jim’s cheek, resting his brow against the bridge of Jim’s nose.

“Do you still wish-“

“Yes. Please.”

Still holding Jim’s hands with one of his, Spock lifted his other hand to Jim’s face. The meld hadn’t even started, yet Jim felt anticipation coming off Spock in waves, matching and surpassing Jim’s by far.

“My mind to your mind…”

_‘… my thoughts to your thoughts.’_

_The feeling was odd. Jim felt almost detached from his body, like he was floating, his attention deeply focused inward._

_He felt nothing for a moment, and knew with absolute certainty that although Spock was fully inside his mind he was still shielding, gradually easing him into the sensation. Whether he figured this out by himself or Spock let him know through the link, he didn’t know._

_The first feeling that came across was the feel of Jim’s hand in Spock’s. It was cool to Spock’s touch, and lightly calloused. Its shape, its size and weight were beautiful to Spock. He was trying not to think of the way that hand would feel touching him elsewhere, how it had felt when Jim had caressed him earlier._

_Jim’s breaths were next, quickened by the cold and the excitement. That small noise, quiet even to Spock’s ears, beloved simply because it belonged to Jim, was loaded with feelings, charged with memories and timid wishes._

_A constellation of impressions blinked into existence around Jim, gradually enveloping him._

_Jim’s smile over a chess match. Spock’s heart fluttering in his side._

_Jim’s naked bicep, glistening with sweat, flexing as he lifted weights in the gymnasium. Aching to know how it would feel under his tongue._

_Jim in the arboretum on the Enterprise, closing his eyes and bending forward to smell a flower. Affection threatening to overwhelm him as he stared from a distance._

_A stray curl of hair in the middle of Jim’s forehead as Spock pinned him to the mat while sparring. Jim blew upwards at it and smiled dashingly. Losing his focus. Feeling faint when Jim flipped them over, straddling him._

_Jim’s thankful smile only moments after claiming he could believe a man could die of loneliness. The pride Spock had felt at having effectively conveyed his support, let Jim know without the need for words that he wasn’t alone. Would never again be alone, if Spock had any say in it._

_Edith Keeler, kissing Jim on a flight of stairs. The sinking feeling in his heart knowing she had won over in a week something he never would. Realizing for the first time what exactly he felt for Jim, how deeply and foolishly **in love** he had fallen._

_Jim in front of him as he whipped around at the sound of Jim’s voice, alive and unharmed and golden, a bright, wide and playful smile on his lips. Almost lifting him off his feet and pulling him into his arms before remembering Chapel and McCoy were present. The way his heart had hurt from beating so hard._

_Emotions started pouring in like a dam breaking open._

_Spock had never known a joy like it, nor a misery like believing he had killed his Captain, his **t’hy’la** , having known their bond for what it was when their minds brushed as they fought. _

**_T’hy’la_ ** _. Friend, brother, lover. And he loved Jim. He loved him beyond reason, against logic. He loved his kindness, his bravery, his playfulness. His gentle teasing, the care and attentiveness he showed Spock, the respect he had for Spock’s needs. His love of challenges, his hatred of injustices. The need for movement, for space, for the next final frontier._

_No one had ever treated Spock which such utmost, sincere care, kindness, respect. Never admired him so genuinely, been interested in him so deeply. Never accepted him so wholeheartedly, as **Spock** , not as a Vulcan or as a Human but as **Spock** , **just** Spock, whole and worthy in a way he had never thought of himself before knowing Jim’s unconditional friendship. _

_Jim wanted to cry at the intensity of those feelings, at how confused and awed Spock had been at first when faced with Jim’s easy, overflowing affection, with how ready he was to accommodate every emotional need Spock hadn’t know he had. Trying to stop himself from loving Jim would have been a losing battle, and Spock hadn’t even tried. Hadn’t even noticed it was happening. One day, he walked onto the bridge and found himself devoted body and heart and mind and soul to this man, found himself bewitched by every twitch of his lips, every twinkle of his eye. And even then he did not yet know it was **love** that he was feeling. _

_He found a home in Jim that he had never found on Vulcan; he learned the meaning of a happiness that crushed the comparison to the contentment he’d first felt at the Academy or under Pike; the acceptance he found in Jim had been unknown to him, the feeling he could do no wrong, as long as he was himself, as long as he was **just Spock** …_

The meld faded, and Jim gasped as he was abruptly dropped back into his body. Spock grabbed his shoulder to steady himself, swaying visibly.

“Spock? What’s wrong?” Jim asked, gently grabbing Spock’s shoulders, a spike of panic going through him.

“My body is simply not adapted for the cold,” he replied with quiet resignation. “I was far more physically fatigued than I realized, and although our minds are extremely compatible and our bond creates a greatly facilitated avenue for communication, a full mind fusion like this still requires a significant amount of mental energy.”

“You shouldn’t have pushed yourself,” Jim said heatedly, but he couldn’t bring himself to be angry with Spock, not when he was still reeling in wonder from the touch of his mind.

“I do apologise, Jim. It is simply that I too wished to… be close to you. It clouded my judgement. It was not my intention to worry you again.”

Jim caressed his upper arms delicately, heart sighing with affection.

“Don’t worry about me. Are you alright?”

“I believe I will be. I… _am_ very tired.”

He blinked repeatedly, eyelids obviously heavy.

“I can’t let you sleep. Not in this cold,” he warned. “Spock?”

“Hm.”

Spock nodded, then rested his head on Jim’s shoulder, pressing his face against Jim’s neck.

“I want you to stay awake. Listen to the sound of my voice. Can you do that, Mister?”

“Yes, Captain.” There was a smile in his voice.

“What would you like to hear, Mister Spock?” Jim asked, smiling, easily slipping into their usual teasing.

“Anything you wish to tell me, Jim,” Spock replied just as playfully.

His breath tickled Jim’s skin. Spock’s lips were like silk against his neck. Jim swallowed.

“I love your lips,” he said quietly. “They’re so soft on my skin. Can you feel how that makes me shiver? Outside and in?”

“Yes,” Spock answered, voice a little amused but mostly that uniquely Spock tone that denoted intense fascination, brushing his lips against Jim’s neck once more, more purposefully.

“I love your voice. I can’t begin to tell you what it does to me without blushing like a schoolboy... But it’s not just that. You have a very calming voice— or perhaps it’s calming _to me_. Just listening to you soothes me no matter how anxious I am. You sound like home to me…”

He went on like that, softly speaking in Spock’s ear as they kept each other warm, as the second sun went down and their little cave went dark, he went on for hours until his throat was dry and it was hard to speak, through the relatively short night, until the first sun came up and the wind stopped howling.

When the communicator chirped, Jim still hadn’t run out of things to say.

* * *

Bones turned off his medical tricorder.

“You’ll be fine, I guess,” he told Spock, who was sitting on the biobed in front of Jim, both of them with a clean and warm uniform on and a heavy blanket on their shoulders. “It just figures that it would be your Vulcan ass that gets stranded in the middle of a freezing nowhere, wet and stuck in hole with no means to get a fire going.”

“As I recall, Doctor, it was not merely my backside to be stranded, but my entire body.”

Jim laughed as Bones rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Put us on leave for a day or two, Bones.”

McCoy blinked repeatedly, incredulous.

“Spock? Sure. But you? You could get away with the physical!”

Jim hopped down from the biobed and exaggerated a big yawn, stretching theatrically.

“I didn’t get a wink of sleep. I need the rest.”

He turned towards Spock to wink mischievously at him and was met with the raising of an eyebrow.

“You, willingly taking leave?” Bones pressed. “Next thing I know, pigs will be flyin’!”

Spock rose from the biobed and came to stand at Jim’s side.

“Clearly it is the sleep deprivation talking, Doctor. I strongly suggest you agree to the leave.” Spock said gravely, but with a glint of mirth in his eye that was obvious to Jim.

“Well, I-“

“You ready to go?” Jim asked, placing his hand on Spock’s shoulder and revelling in letting the touch turn into the subtlest caress.

“Hold on a minute, I’d like to keep him in for observation!”

“Come now, Bones, after all he’s been through, you won’t even let the man sleep in his own bed?”

That gave the doctor pause. He crossed his arms as he considered the idea.

“Well, I suppose-“

“Relax,” Jim said, giving him a light clap on the shoulder, “I will be escorting him to his quarters personally.”

Without waiting for a reply, he wrapped an arm around Spock’s waist and started making his way towards the exit.

“Now wait just a goddamn minute, Jim! There’s something you’re not telling me!” Bones hollered after them.

“You’ll figure it out, Bones,” Jim replied as the door swished shut behind them, grinning knowingly.

Thankfully, Bones didn’t pursue them.

“I assume you are not actually escorting me to my quarters to rest?” Spock asked as he let himself be led.

“Oh, I am,” Jim replied as they entered the turbolift. “I really do need the sleep. I’m sorry. I do hope you’re not disappointed,” he said playfully, though sincerely. “Deck 5,” he instructed the lift.

“Jim.” Jim turned to face him, feeling soothed when he saw understanding and amusement in Spock’s eyes. “I cannot imagine a scenario in which I am not disappointed by a lack of sexual intercourse with you. However, I understand, and I am not upset.”

Jim blushed hotly at that, and his hand was shaky when he met the Vulcan kiss Spock offered. Surely Spock too was dead tired –Jim didn’t recall him sleeping at all in the days preceding the planetary survey- … but clearly not too tired to think of making love with him? Jim licked his lips, wishing his eyelids weren’t heavier and heavier with every breath. Still, his lack of energy didn’t mean he was going to bid Spock goodnight and leave for his own cabin as he had deliberately implied so far.

The kiss went on for a long moment, affection flowing sweet and warm between them through that small touch, until the lift stopped. Jim remained silent as they exited it and made their way down the corridor, smiling now, biding his time.

“I was thinking,” he finally said when they reached Spock’s door, “after all that cold, perhaps you could use some additional huddling for warmth tonight?”

He gasped in surprise when Spock gently grabbed the front of his uniform shirt and pulled him inside, letting the door swish shut behind them.

“An excellent idea, Captain.” The bright twinkle of mirth and mischief in his eyes very nearly made Jim swoon. “However, for maximum efficacy I do believe we should both be completely nude.”

Jim grinned delightedly.

“Logical,” he said, licking his lips as he grabbed Spock’s upper arms. “Flawlessly logical.”

And he pulled Spock in for a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed the fic, please do consider leaving a comment. I publish my fic to share my stories with others, and it's extremely motivating to hear from you, especially if the fic is old! (Yes, even if it's many months or years old!) Any comments are deeply appreciated: an emoji, a keysmash, a gif, a "nice!" or "extra kudos!" brings me as much joy as a novel-length comment. 
> 
> Thank you for reading <3


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